It's Different When He's Yours
by The Taste of Chemicals
Summary: HMC CitA Multiple oneshots centering on the Jenkins family. My first fanfic. If you review, please do so constructively.
1. Thank You

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing at all. **

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He was on his stomach on the foot of the bed, his chubby left cheek pressing softly into the quilt, mouth parted slightly as his breath came in gentle puffs. His mother stroked his hair as he held his father's finger in one pudgy little fist. 

A baby sleeping was nothing new to Howl Jenkins; he'd seen his niece and nephew when they were babies. _This is different, though,_ he thought. _It's different when he's yours._

They were all lying on the bed in Howl and Sophie's room. Howl looked out of the corner of his eye, steeling a glance at his wife. Sophie was watching Morgan with a dreamy look in her eye as she mindlessly began to rub soothing circles on his back. They stayed like that for another minute before Sophie chanced a glance at her husband and caught his eye, blushing slightly. Howl smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It had only been a month since they had gotten their castle back and reunited their little family. There was some getting used to having a baby in the house. Morgan woke up at all hours of the night, his piercing cries preventing any other occupants of the moving castle from sleeping as well. Sophie had become even tidier and more short-tempered, it seemed to Howl, but he dismissed it as the nervousness of a first-time mother.

Howl smirked as he remembered one afternoon a few days previous.

"_Feet, Howl." Sophie said as her sweeping moved his way. _

"_Sophie, is this really necessary? You've swept twice today already, and it's not even noon!" Howl told her from his place in a chair by the fire as he held a fussy Morgan. She ignored him and he lifted his feet for her broom to pass. _

_Sophie reached where she had started. She stopped, looked around the floor, adjusted her grip on the broom, and made to begin again. Before she could get too far, though, a strong hand plucked the broom from her grasp. _

"_That's enough, Sophie," Howl said firmly. He leaned the broom against the wall as Sophie put her hands on her hips. "If you keep this up, you'll sweep away the floor."_

_They stared at one another, neither risking raised voices for fear of waking Morgan, who was finally sleeping in his father's arms. Just as Howl was about to relent under her hard glare, a knock on the door startled them both back into the present. _

"_Kingsbury," came Calcifer's bored voice from the hearth. _

_Howl shifted Morgan in his arms and returned to his place by the fire while Sophie opened the door with a bit more force than was necessary. Standing there in all his finery was one of the king's pages. He looked surprised to see Sophie standing there. She glared at him expectantly._

"_Oh, uh, begging your pardon, Miss. This is the house of Wizard Pendragon, is it not?" he asked with an apologetic look on his face. _

"_That depends," Sophie answered shortly._

"_Depends on what, Miss?" the page asked._

"_What you want with him." _

"_Oh, well, you see, the King—"_

"_Knows full well Howl has taken a leave! He'll be back in another month, as promised!" Sophie told the boy sharply._

"_Oh, so he does live here! Are you his wife? Please Ma'am, I have a message for Wizard Pendragon and I'm supposed to report back to the King and—"_

"_Howl is on leave! He needs a rest! It's the least the king can do after all this mess HE was the cause of. Dijins, cats, princesses, genies! It's his fault, all of it! I've had it up to here with the king and his demands! Tell THAT to the king!"_

"_But—" Sophie slammed the door in the page's face before he could finish. Howl stood and gently laid Morgan (who had miraculously stayed asleep throughout his mother's tirade) in the bassinet they kept in the main room of the moving castle. Sophie had picked up a scrub brush and began to attack the kitchen sink. Howl made his way over to her and took the brush from her hand. Just as she opened her mouth to object, he placed his own over hers in a soft, tender kiss. _

_Sophie melted. She threw her arms around his neck and her knees gave way. When they broke off she was smiling, her bad mood gone. Howl smiled back and released her. She went to the bassinet, scooped up Morgan and took him upstairs, leaving Howl holding a rather grungy scrub brush. _

True enough, Howl had called the baby ugly. And upon first glance, Morgan really wasn't an extraordinary looking baby. He had a little tuft of soft, brown hair, and his eyes were a sort of odd mixture of Sophie's shocking blue and Howl's glass green. The look he was inclined to wear was almost threatening, challenging you to do something to make him cry. And he was pudgy, as all babies tend to be.

That was all Howl saw when he first laid eyes on his son. But over the last month, he noticed smaller things: the dimples that formed in Morgan's cheeks during the rare smile; the way he seemed to raise an eyebrow and cock his head to the side when his parents argued, as though he was studying them; the remarkable strength of the grip in that impossibly small little hand. It all fascinated Howl.

But he would never say it aloud, the pride that swelled deep in his chest whenever he saw his son. The wonder he felt when Sophie tried to sooth his cries. But here, in their bedroom, the place Howl caught himself being honest the most…

"Sophie," he said gently.

"Hmmm?" she responded, turning her gaze to him. Howl searched for the right words, something witty and charming that would make her blush. Nothing came. So he just looked at her, and she looked back with a rather confused expression.

"Howl?" she asked.

"Thank you," it came out as a whisper. Sophie looked now looked even more confused.

"For what, Howl?" He paused before answering.

"For everything," another whisper

With that Sophie smiled and blushed again, then gave a slight frown.

"You're being honest again," She told him seriously.

"A dreadful habit that I intend to fix first thing in the morning."

"Why the morn—"

Not wishing to answer the question he knew was bound to come, Howl pressed his lips to hers, effectively shutting her up.

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**First fanfic ever. I mostly do original stuff, then I'm too nervous or self conscious to post it on FictionPress. Review if you want to but I'm not going to beg. It would be appreciated though. **


	2. News

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing at all.**

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Sophie Jenkins was not quite sure what had just happened. She had told her husband something that she felt was rather important, something that had been on her mind for days; he had simply donned a confused look, kissed her quickly on the forehead, turned the doorknob to black down, and vanished into Wales. Sophie was left standing in the main room, staring at the door where Howl had disappeared. Slowly, she felt the tears begin to well up, stinging her eyes. 

OoOoO

Howl Jenkins was not quite sure what had just happened. His wife had told him something of utter importance. He should have been happy. She had seemed happy…but something inside him just didn't click as it should have. So, as if in a daze, he had kissed her head and gone to Wales. He couldn't go back yet. She was bound to throw something heavy and most likely metal at his head if he came home within the hour. If he waited a bit, she would only yell.

So there he stood, outside Megan's house. A drink sounded about right, and with that thought, he turned and headed towards the pub.

The bell above the door jingled as he walked in and the bartender glanced up.

"Why, if it isn't Dr. Jenkins! Long time no see!"

Howl said nothing, just sat at the bar as the daze started to wear off. How did this happen? Sure, it wasn't bad, just a surprise. He was surprised, that's all. But it hadn't appeared that way, he knew. Howl imagined Sophie's face crumpling and tearing up and held his head in his hands. He pressed his palms into his eyes and watched the colors that erupted from the blackness. The surprise started to dwindle.

"Dr. Jenkins? Hey, Jenkins. Howell? Howell!"

Howl lifted his face and saw the bartender there, eyebrow cocked, watching him. "Hmm?" he asked.

"I said, 'what can I get ya?'"

"Oh, right, just…just a beer," Howl muttered. The bartender nodded and went to the tap. Howl glanced around; there were only a few people in the pub besides him. No rugby on the telly tonight. The bartender came back and placed a pint in front of Howl. Howl nodded in thanks and downed half the glass in two gulps.

"Whoa, slow down there, mate. Keep that up and you'll be drunk after two," the bartender told him. Howl shrugged. "So, what brings ya back here? Haven't seen ya in right 'round a year! What's been keeping the good doctor away?"

"Nothing, Sophie just doesn't like it when I'm drunk. Says I smell bad," Howl muttered, watching the foam atop his beer.

"Who's Sophie? Your latest girl?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

"My wife," Howl muttered again, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"WIFE?? Well, I never thought I'd see the day that Howell Jenkins gave up skirt chasing. She must be a quite a girl." Howl made no movement other than taking another swig of beer. The bartender cocked his eyebrow again. "Oh, so it's trouble with the missus what's got ya down?"

Howl shook his head, "No, no, nothing like that. Sure, we have our arguments, but…that's just our way. No, no this isn't like that."

The bartender paused, "Then what's it like?"

Howl contemplated the dregs in his glass then furrowed his brow. "She's pregnant."

The bartender laughed a thunderous laugh and said, "Well that's not something to be down about! Most men come in here with a great, stupid smile on their face when they got news like that, not a melancholy look to put Hamlet to shame!"

Howl looked up, eyes wide. "Oh no, no! I'm thrilled, I really am! It's just…not exactly stable…where we live," he began. "And, well, it wasn't really planned... and, and what'll I do? You know? What do I do? I don't know how to be a dad; I only know how to be the doting uncle! I spoil them then leave them to my sister to deal with!" Howl sighed in exasperation and buried his face in his palms again.

This bartender didn't know Howl live in another world, which was presently war-torn. He didn't know that Howl was probably a prime target for the Strangian army. He didn't know how dangerous it was to live in Ingary at the moment. And because he didn't know, the bartender felt obligated to answer Howl's rhetorical question.

"I'll tell ya what ya do, Jenkins: you go home. You go back to your wife, and you tell her what you just told me. I get plenty of men like you too. Most of 'em turn out to be great dads. Now get! I'm cutting you off. No no no, I don't care if you've only had one, it's late. Go home."

With that, the bartender took Howl's glass and pointed to the door. Howl blinked at him and stood to leave.

OoOoO

Sophie sat by the fire, tears running down her face. Why did he just up and leave? He was coming back, wasn't he? He should have been happy. She thought he would have been happy. She had seen how he interacted with Mari and Neil; was it too much to think that they could have that too? Well of course it was, Howl being the peacock of a man that he was. But hadn't they talked about it, in passing at least? Maybe he just needed to think things over. He really was a good husband. Oh, confounded hormones!

She wiped her tears on her sleeve and stood. Cleaning seemed like a good idea. She glanced around. The hearth and floor were swept; the rafters, cobweb free; the kitchen, very near sparkling; the workbench, as tidy as it would ever be. Sophie sighed in defeat and fell back into her chair.

A throat cleared itself, and at first Sophie thought it was Howl. As she glanced about, she saw that it was only Calcifer, looking almost worried in his hearth.

"Are you alright, Sophie?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, yes. I'm fine," she replied dismissively, but her teary cheeks betrayed her.

Calcifer looked skeptical, "Are you sure? You've been crying for quite a while."

Sophie humphed, "Yes, Calcifer I'm just fine. Now—"

Just then, the door opened and Sophie turned so fast she nearly cricked her neck. There in the doorway, looking rather ashamed, was Howl. He shut the door with a _click_ and turned to face her. Their eyes met, and while she held her gaze, he glanced away.

Howl loved arguing with Sophie, he just hated loosing. He hated admitting he was wrong. He hated apologizing. But he did it, every now and then.

Howl began to walk towards the fire and took the chair next to Sophie's. He buried his face in hands. Sophie hated when he did that; it hid his eyes.

She waited but he didn't say anything, just sat with his head in his hands. She looked at floor and muttered a soft, "Howl, I'm sorry."

His head shot up and out of his hands, and as he saw her crying again, he mentally hit himself. "Cariad, what for?" he slid off the chair and knelt near hers, taking her hand in his. "You've done nothing wrong."

Sophie made to interrupt but found herself quite unable to with her husband's lips on hers. He pulled back quickly, "I was just surprised, that's all. I didn't know what to say." Howl's hand lay on her stomach and smiled a small smile. "But I really am happy."

Sophie smiled back and said, "It surprised me too." Then she frowned, "But you didn't have to just disappear! I was worried! I do not want to have to raise it alone. You're lucky I didn't have a saucepan handy, or you'd have a lump marring that face you're so proud of."

Howl was taken aback by the sudden change in mood. But he'd have to get used to that, it would be ever-present in the coming months.

"How far along are you?" he asked, choosing to ignore the saucepan remark.

"Only about three months," Sophie responded, suddenly looking worried. "What will happen to us, with the war and all?"

Sophie had hit Howl's fears on the head, but he felt she needn't hear that.

"We will be ok. I'm sure everything will be perfect."

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**Thank you to those who reviewed. I appreciate it very much, and would take it as a kindness it you'd continue to do so. -_hinthint-_**

**This one was a bit hard to write because I used third person omnicient rather than third person limited, but I think it was okay, no? **


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